


There's An Angel In These Woods

by Castiel_For_King



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Hurt Castiel, Love Confessions, M/M, Post Amara and Lucifer, Protective Dean, Protective Sam, Schmoop in the woods, Skittish Castiel, Team Free Will, Wings, and Cas being adorable, feel good fic, ft. woodland creatures, the fluffiest fluff to ever fluff, wing!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-08 00:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6831160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Castiel_For_King/pseuds/Castiel_For_King
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It had hurt, Dean remembered.  It had hurt deeply whenever he would snap out of worry or raise his voice in frustration and Cas would shrink away from him with fear flashing in his eyes and move instinctively towards Sam – where he felt safe, away from the threat, away from Dean.  It was that – seeing Cas looking at him like he was the dangerous thing that made his wings tremble and spread – which had been the driving force behind Dean’s quest to temper his ingrained reflexes and make an effort to act less like…well, a hunter.  Because he’d only just recently learned that it made Cas feel like prey.  Even if the angel didn’t understand what it was that he was feeling."</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's An Angel In These Woods

“Who was that?”

Dean hit end call on his phone and looked up at Sam.  “Jessy and Cesar.”

“Are they in trouble?”  Sam was already standing, half looking like he was ready to drive to Mexico right then and there if Dean said they were.

He grinned and quickly reassured his brother, “They’re fine.  Great, Cesar said.  They, uh, they were wondering if they could stop by and visit for a few days.”

Cesar had sounded somewhat exasperated on the phone but he’d sounded happy too.  Apparently he and Jessy had decided to renew their vows.  In Alaska.  Which was a hell of a road trip, Cesar lamented hesitantly.  It would be nice if they could stop in and catch up for a day or two.

Dean had blurted out an  _of course_  before he even thought about asking Sam, which, judging by the way Sam’s face lit up with a smile, Dean supposed was answer enough for both of them.  It had been a long enough time since they’d had someone in the bunker besides the three of them and a visit from friends was always welcome.

He wished they had more friends and felt a pang in his chest for all the ones they had lost.

“Cas never did meet them,” Sam contemplated, “I never mentioned them to him either.  Did you tell Cas about that hunt?”

Dean shook his head, thinking back over the last few months.  “No, I didn’t.  Jesus, has it really been six freakin’ months already?”

Huffing a laugh as if he couldn’t believe it either, Sam nodded.

Six months had passed since God had ripped Lucifer from Cas’ body.  Six months since God and his sister had gone toe to toe.  Dean still couldn’t believe how it had all turned out so… _good_  for a change.  He supposed they should have seen it coming.  God was light and Amara was darkness, it wasn’t as if those two things hadn’t been canceling each other out since the beginning of time – Dean had just expected it to be harder.  It was always harder.

Still, he’d take it.  Cas was nearly healed up now and every time Dean remembered that fact a fresh and fierce wave of gratitude and relief washed through him, just as raw as the first time he had finally realized that Cas would really be ok.  The three of them were home and safe and happy and working on their issues together.  Like a real family should.  They hadn’t been hunting since the showdown and were taking things slow, letting all their physical and mental wounds heal before they even sat down to talk about getting back in the game.

Honestly, Dean didn’t think he even cared if he never hunted again.  So long as they all decided to do what made them happy, that’s all he wanted now.  He was tired of the anxiety and fear and depression.  He was tired of never sleeping and eating on the road.  He loved to cook real food and Sam and Cas liked to eat it – even though he technically didn’t need to, Cas still seemed to enjoy it.  He liked not seeing dark circles and heavy lines around Sam’s eyes all the time.  He liked seeing Cas smile those rare little smiles.  Dean hadn’t gotten him to outright laugh yet but he was sure he was getting close.

_This_  is what living felt like, and Dean wasn’t sure he could give it up now that he’d gotten a proper taste of it.

“Cas’ll love them,” Sam said with certainty.  “And they’ll like Cas.  Though, we might want to ease them in to the whole angel thing.  It might be a bad shock for all three of them if they walk in to the living room and see Cas sitting there with…you know.”

He supposed that was true.  Cas had become such a constant – such a comforting, wonderful constant – in their lives that Dean sometimes forgot that Cas might seem strange and alarming to an outsider.  Especially to two hunters.

Cas had come so fucking far.  He’d practically risen out of his own ashes – damaged, burned, bleeding – and had gotten to where he is now against all odds.  For weeks after they had finally,  _finally_  gotten the angel home, Dean had been sure that this was the one thing Cas would not come back from.  How could he?  He’d been cut and shredded and broken over and over under Amara’s torture; under Naomi’s; under Metatron’s – among others.  He’d been chained to Lucifer for nearly a year.  He’d been in bad shape before he even let Lucifer  _in_ …

Dean had hovered and waited and cried and prayed for Cas to wake up for two weeks.  He’d thought for sure that he would never see those blue eyes again.

But, as he tended to do, Cas defied the odds.  He  _woke up_.  Then he stood up.  He walked.  He got  _better_.

He wasn’t the same as he had been before, but then neither Dean or Sam expected him to be.  They certainly weren’t the same people they had been a few years ago.  Now, Cas was nothing close to human, but he wasn’t fully an angel either.  He could no longer hear the voices of his brothers and sisters – something that had been much more distressing for him than either Dean or Sam could have predicted.

_“I can’t_ hear _anything, Dean!” Cas cried.  “Their voices are just gone – it’s like they’re all dead – please, I can’t stand this!”_

They’d had to leave the tv and radios on constantly, just to wean him off the constant noise he was used to having in his head. He seemed to be getting used to it now.  It had been weeks since he and Sam had come home from a grocery run to find all three tvs and radios turned on and Cas staring dead-eyed at a wall somewhere in the bunker.

The memory still sent a chill through Dean when he thought about it.  He’d spent hours googling things like ‘voices soundtrack’ and ‘background chatter’ and similar things and wondering if any of the things he found would help Cas at all or if it would be too close to what he knew he’d lost that it would just hurt him more.  In the end, Dean had gotten him a noise machine – the kind that played wave sounds and white noise and thunderstorms – which Cas still used every time he slept.  And he did sleep, every few days.  It seemed healthier than trying to replace something he could never get back.  Dean wanted him to move forward, not hang on to something in the past.

Which is exactly what Cas had done.  But to move forward, you had to change, you had to leave some stuff behind.  You had to  _adapt_ , and one thing Castiel’s instincts had adapted to accommodate was the constant danger he always seemed to be in.  Years of brainwashing and torture, of ceaseless fighting and betrayals, of constant running with no safe place to stop and rest, had left him hyper alert and slow to trust.   

Cas was a bit skittish now. Sometimes if a loud noise caught him off guard he would flinch, or if one of them moved or touched him in a way he wasn’t expecting, he would recoil from them.  So they had to be careful.  Dean more than Sam, since his little brother was just naturally soft and quiet.  A gentle giant, Dean thought with a small smile, and Cas had, at first, naturally gravitated towards Sam’s calm voice and careful movements.

It had hurt, Dean remembered.  It had hurt deeply whenever he would snap out of worry or raise his voice in frustration and Cas would shrink away from him with fear flashing in his eyes and move instinctively towards Sam – where he felt  _safe_ , away from the threat, away from  _Dean_.  It was that – seeing Cas looking at him like  _he_  was the dangerous thing that made his wings tremble and spread – which had been the driving force behind Dean’s quest to temper his ingrained reflexes and make an effort to act less like…well, a hunter.  Because he’d only just recently learned that it made Cas feel like prey.  Even if the angel didn’t understand what it was that he was feeling.

But though he still struggled with emotions and ate and slept and could no longer lift the fridge with one hand, there were still undeniably angelic features that Castiel retained.   His grace, though heavily scared, was still strong.  But instead of using it to smite demons and destroy things, he’d taken to spending hours a day in the forest around the bunker – helping things grow.

And his wings of course.  They were massive, stretching eighteen feet from tip to tip – he and Sam had made Cas stand still one day so they could actually measure them – with sleek, glossy black feathers, the longest of which were nearly five feet long.

The first time Dean had seen them he’d caught Cas unaware, off one of his trails in the woods.  Along with the smell of wood and dirt saturated with rain water and the feel of moss under his boots, the sight of Castiel – actual angel – sitting in a small clearing with his black wings fanned out and sunlight streaming down in glittering pillars all around him, would be seared in Dean’s brain forever. 

Dean shook himself out of the memory, “Yeah, I’ll warn them when they get here.  Sometime after supper, they said.  Apparently they thought they could make it all the way to Alaska in one go but,” Dean grinned, remembering the way Cesar had mumbled into the phone, obviously trying to keep Jessy from hearing, “I guess things were getting a little tense.”

“Alright, I’m gonna go tell Cas we’re having people over for a few days, then,” Sam declared, still smiling a little. 

Apparently Dean was not the only one who wished they had more visitors – more  _friends_.  He wished there was something like Plenty Of Fish or Lonely Hearts…but just for friends. 

He smirked as he made his way to the kitchen, thinking of the profile he might set up for such a site.

‘ _Thirty something year old guy and his brother looking for friends.  Mentally stable and/or healthy people need not apply.  Must be open to discussions of witchcraft, demonology and the occasional séance._ ’

Dean chuckled out loud to himself, wondering just what the hell he was going to make for dinner.  He decided on burgers, because literally everyone like burgers.  And he still had that aged cheddar that Cas loved…

 

* * *

 

Cas hadn't been in his room, Sam told him an hour later, nor had he been along any of the trail-heads close to the bunker.  But that wasn’t unusual and Dean only had to deal with a thin wobble of worry in his chest, which was much more manageable than the crushing dread he was used to when someone told him Cas was, effectively, missing.

But Cas wasn’t missing, Dean knew this, he was just at one of his woodland haunts.  Which could be anywhere between a few minutes of walking to a few hours of hiking away.  Sometimes he even stayed out over night.

Though that was rare. 

“I’ll check the waterfall later if he isn’t back by sundown,” Dean said, flipping a patty that was only starting to brown.

The waterfall was Cas’ favourite place to be.  Even more than his own room, Dean suspected.  He certainly seemed to spend more time there.  Though, since he’d shown Sam and Dean how to get there, they seemed to spend a fair amount of time there themselves.

It was a small thing, a little brook that had likely spent centuries carving out the deep but narrow path through the rock under the mossy forest floor.  The trail that led to it was even narrower than the creek, barely wide enough for both Dean’s feet at the same time.  It took less than an hour to walk there and was easy enough to reach when it was light enough to see.

Though there was no cell reception outside, Castiel usually sent some kind of message if he wasn’t going to be home that night.

That was something that had taken a painfully long time to get Cas to understand – that they wanted to know when he wasn’t going to be home for a while.  Because they needed to know when to start worrying.  Because they _cared_.  Dean would never forget the way Castiel had stared at them at first, tilting his head to the side like he did when he was particularly confused, because there wasn’t even a threadbare assumption in his head that they might care if he wandered in to the woods and never came back.

Dean had made a hasty retreat to his room more than once, trying to muffle the sound of him retching in to the little garbage can by his bed, choking on the guilt clogging his throat.

Jessy and Cesar were knocking on their door right when they said they would be and, after a round of sturdy hand shakes and smiles much wider than the ones Dean had last seen on their faces, they dug in to the burgers.

The horses were good and the farm was coming along nicely, was the first thing he and Sam learned, and after some small talk about their plans for a simple retreat and vow renewal in Alaska, the questions naturally turned to Sam and Dean and what they had been up to.  How they had been.

The brothers shared a look and heaved a heavy sigh in unison.

“Been busy, then?”  Jessy asked, wincing as he looked between them.

Sam was keeping his mouth shut and Dean scowled at him.  He knew why Sam was doing it, for the same reason he’d _been_ doing it the last few months – staying quiet, making Dean talk – it had been both incredibly helpful in helping them as a family unit and a total pain in his ass.

He cleared his throat, “Well, a few weeks after we last saw you we, uh, we had some shit we had to deal with regarding a…family member.  He was in trouble,” Dean looked down at the table, because _understatement_. “He was in really bad trouble.  Almost died,” he choked on the absurdity of the short summary of what was probably one of the top five most miserable months of his life.

Cesar and Jessy were giving him calculating stares, as if they knew good and well there was a shit ton more to that story than Dean was letting on.  They weren’t wrong; there was about seven years of shit he’d just…glossed over. 

“Anyway,” he leaned back in his seat, “We got him back safe and uh,” he huffed a laugh, reached out and fiddled with the fork on his empty plate, “Cas kind of has a habit of just spitting on the odds.  And he didn’t disappoint this time either.  He’s pretty much healed up, I’d say,” he told them, looking to Sam who bobbed his head in agreement, “He’s still a little jumpy but, hey, that’s to be expected…”

Cesar and Jessy shared a look and a private little smile that had Dean’s stomach flipping over. 

“So where is he?”  Cesar asked.  “I’ve heard you talk about him the last few times we called to check in.  I kind of expected him to be here.”

Dean blinked, “Oh,” he looked back towards the door where the only two windows in the bunker were.  The sky outside – the sliver of it that he could see – was pink with the glow of the setting sun.  “Shit.”

He scrambled out of his chair, ignoring Sam telling him that it was fine.  Over the sound of his boots pounding up the metal staircase, he could hardly hear his brother gently reminding him that Cas had spent many nights out communing with nature or whatever the hell it was that he did.  But Dean ignored him and tried not to outright run up the steps to the door.  Because Cas always, always left some kind of message to let them know he was safe.

When he hauled the door open, Dean’s gaze snapped all around, landing on Cesar’s truck then up to the colorful sunset, then began to scour the trees and ground all around him.  In his haste, he nearly stepped on the small pile of flowers by his feet.

A handful of Red clover heads and daisies were piled on the top step, carried by whatever wind Castiel had sent them on from whatever little nook he would be spending the night in, and dropped on their doorstep.

And Dean could breathe again.

He carefully scooped the flowers up, knowing they were also meant to be dried for tea.  Because Cas had showed Sam how to do that and now they were both nerds about it.  Cas had, on one rare occasion when he went out shopping with them, found a book at a used book store that was all about the medicinal properties of North American wild flowers.  He’d given it to Sam on a Tuesday with a simple, “Happy Tuesday, Sam,” and an owlish blink before wandering off outside.

Dean was pretty sure Sam had almost cried.

When he came back down the steps, Sam, Cesar and Jessy were all standing around the war room table, as if only awaiting Dean’s order to put their boots back on and go search the woods for Cas.  Sam looked both mildly amused and a touch worried, though the later melted away as soon as he saw the flowers in Dean’s hands.

“He left those, I’m guessing,” asked Sam, just to be sure.

“Yeah, here you go, knock yourself out.”  He handed the flowers off to Sam, who took them like they were made of glass and disappeared down the hall leading to the kitchen.

Dean huffed out a slow breath, feeling his heart rate coming down from a height he hadn’t noticed it climb to, and turned to find Cesar and Jessy giving him confused looks.

“So, if he left the flowers,” Jessy’s frown deepened, “Why wouldn’t he just come in and let you know?”

_Oh_ , Dean thought, _right_.  He hadn’t told them yet.

“Yeah, so Cas is an angel.  And I know that sounds crazy but hear me out…”

 

* * *

 

The next morning – earlier than everyone but Dean wanted to be awake – found the four of them hiking through the woods.

Normally, Dean would be the last one to roll himself out of bed at eight in the morning but, well, he hadn’t seen Cas in a day and a half and a small pile of flowers was no substitute for seeing the angel’s face, talking to him, just…being around him.  And besides that, Jessy and Cesar had said they needed a few days off from driving; what better way to take a break from sitting than to go for a little hike in the woods to introducing them to an angel for the first time?

They’d been wary through Dean’s rushed explanation, which was nothing less than what Dean expected of two hunters.  As a group, they tended to be mistrustful of anything that wasn’t human – mostly because they only seemed to run in to the bad ones – so hearing Dean say that he and Sam were not only very good friends with someone that wasn’t even close to human, but that he was also living with them was a bit for them to digest.

But they’d had a night to sleep on it and had seemed eager to accompany the brothers down to the waterfall.

“So what are angels like?”  Jessy asked him quietly, tramping along behind Dean on the narrow path.  Behind Jessy was Cesar, with Sam bringing up the rear.

The woods were damp and green from rain that had only let up sometime before the sun had risen, and the smell of wet moss, wood and pine was crisp and soothing under Dean’s nose.  He found himself taking deep, long breaths for no other reason than to keep smelling the air.

The spruce trees all around the path were tall and straight, reaching up to where the tufty tops could feel the sun and leaving their trunks bare save for a few scraggly, dead branches and scruffy Old Man’s Beard moss.  There were a few sleepy bird calls echoing through the trees from chickadees and sparrows – which Castiel had taken the time to teach him one long afternoon a few weeks ago.  Down by their feet on either side of the path, ferns and fiddle heads whipped at their ankles from time to time, smearing their pants with cold water.

Dean almost felt guilty each time one of the delicate plants smacked against his shins, remembering the time he and Cas had gone for a walk on this very path only a week after the angel had managed to get out of bed for the first time.

_“You should not step so carelessly on the plants, Dean,” Castiel told him gravely.  He was walking barefoot, over the thick, carpet-like moss between the trees instead of on the trail with Dean.  “Their lives are important too.”_

_Dean looked down then, at the ground under his feet, and noticed the tiny little plants sprouting along the path, and he looked back to see them bent and crushed in the grooves his boots had left behind.  He hadn’t even noticed the little things but was at a loss for how to possibly avoid stepping on them._

_He looked back to Castiel, who was still walking a few paces away, his bare feet sinking into the moss under his weight even though he moved like a breeze between the fragile saplings reaching up from under their adult brethren, desperately seeking the sun’s touch.  But the indentations left from his footsteps faded seconds after he had passed, as if he’d never been there._

_Dean crouched down to untie his boots and toed them off, stuffing his socks inside and setting them off the side of the trail, looking back up at Cas._

_It was the first real smile the angel had ever given him and Dean clutched blindly at a nearby tree when his legs started to tingle_.

But even though a little niggling of guilt was worming its way through Dean’s stomach, he would not stop and take off his shoes because there was no non-ridiculous explanation he could give that wouldn’t result in Sam teasing him for it until he died.  Not to mention, lately it seemed like every time Dean opened his mouth something about Cas came out and the weighted, shrewd looks that Jessy and Cesar kept giving him were getting…uncomfortable.  Like they thought they _knew_ him just because they…

Dean hiked his backpack – which they had filled with some food for lunch – higher on his shoulders, glanced back with his eyes on the trail, and winced at the poor little pulverised baby plants.  Maybe he could fill some of the more used trails in with flat stones or gravel so he didn’t feel like he was crushing an entire biome under his lumbering, ape-man feet every time he went for a walk.  And he might have seen some things in that book Cas gave Sam – it had just been _open_ on the table in the library – and he’d read something about _living carpet plants_ that liked to grow between stones that were ok to walk on.

“Dean?”

Dean grunted to let Jessy know he was listening, carefully stepping over a fern that had bent over the trail.  He scowled when he heard it smack against three legs behind him.

“What are angels like?”

Oh, right.  “Uh, well most of them are total assholes.  Though, they…kind of have a reason to be.  They’re – their entire situation up there is pretty messed up.”  He cleared his throat and got back on track because the discussion of angels and their torture and brainwashing and blind obedience – all of which had been forced on them by a father who had abandoned them in the end – was not something he wanted to taint the peaceful forest atmosphere with.

“But Cas managed to get away, though it wasn’t easy.  And I think angels would probably be a lot more like him if they could get away too.  So I can’t speak for all angels, ‘cause I only care about the one.”  He grinned, because no one could see him anyway.  “Cas is pretty quiet and crazy smart.  He’s got the biggest god damn heart of anyone I know and spends most of his time trying to help the little guy.”  He thought of all the days he’d spent in the woods with Cas, just watching him pour grace into the soil, watching the trees strengthen and grow, watching the little ground cover plants sprout under his hand.  Watching the way Cas smiled.  “He doesn’t understand pop culture references and never really got the hang of using a computer.  He’s…”

He had to stop there – cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulder – because he realized he wasn’t really answering Jessy’s question and wasn’t sure if he actually could.  He couldn’t sum Cas up with just words.  There were things that he knew about Cas that wouldn’t translate from his chest and come out his mouth as anything that made sense.

When it was evident Dean did not plan on saying anything more on the subject, Sam spoke up from the back.

“Cas is great, he’s family, and we need you to keep an open mind.  I’m not saying you’d ever…”  Sam cleared his throat, sounding like he was trying to reign in his own assumptions about how Jessy and Cesar might treat Cas.  “Just – he’s still pretty skittish so don’t be surprised if it takes him a while to warm up to you.  And try not to be too loud or move too suddenly – oh!  And just so you’re both… _aware_ , he might have his wings out.”

“ _Wings_?”  Cesar asked, and Dean could practically hear his eyebrows climbing.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, quick and sharp with another look over his shoulder.  “Normally angels hide their wings in the ether just for practicality but Cas had some issues while he was healing at first and it was…easier for him to have them on _this_ plane of existence, so he has them out most of the time because it feels better.”  He didn’t turn around, kept looking and walking forward so that the likely harsh expression of his face would not sharpen his words further. “No staring, touching or stupid questions about the wings, capisce?”

He did look back then, to make sure they understood he wasn’t kidding.

Jessy and Cesar both blinked at him with wide eyes and then nodded.  Jessy glanced over his shoulder to give Cesar a pointed look but no one said anything else.  The tense moment lifted and the four of them traipsed on in silence, absorbing the peacefulness of the forest, listening to the sounds of wildlife and wind high up in the trees.  Eventually they came around a bend in the trail and came parallel with the creek Dean had told them about.

It was only about three feet wide but it was deeper than it looked, and the path it had cut through the rocky sub-terrain under all the moss and roots was several feet deep.  Up ahead, the sound of the waterfall was audible.

 "It gets a little tricky up here," Dean warned as he approached the spot where the ground dropped away and the trail narrowed even more.

Here, where the creek forced a part in the tree tops and allowed the sun to reach the ground, there were lush green saplings and leafy plants growing in abundance, lining the edge of the trickling water and clinging to the stones and earth slopping down.  The well-traveled path hugged the rocky drop off, curving around a natural bowl formation that had been carved out by the waterfall, leaving a deep pool of water at the bottom, so clear they could see the sand and small stones at the bottom. Directly across the water from the trail, the terrain rose up sharply again and in every nook and cranny in the rocky wall there were tufts of lush green moss and small plants that had somehow managed to find a foothold and put down roots.

They had to brush aside a few stray branches hanging over the path to avoid getting hit in the face and a few weeks ago Dean would have been down there with clippers and a saw.  But now he knew he'd face the angel's wrath if he so much as mentioned cutting the plants back off the trail.

_"This is their home, Dean, and we are the intruders here."_

Being in front, Dean was the first to spot Cas and nearly tripped over his own feet, which, given the ten-foot drop-off immediately to his left, would have ended badly for him. 

He managed not to fall, but had to pause to take in the sight of the angel under the guise of letting the others catch up.

Castiel was sitting on the only non-rocky surface in sight.  Diagonally across the pond was a patch of very soft looking moss about five feet in diameter, and Cas had planted himself right in the middle of it, sitting cross-legged with his hands resting on his knees and his face turned up towards the sky.  His eyes were closed and he looked...serene.  _Angelic_.  Like he was meditating.

Dean swallowed hard when he let his eyes travel to the massive wings folded loosely against the angel's back.  Too long to fold properly while he was sitting, Cas let them droop over his shoulder, resting the large joints on the ground so that the tips of the longest flight feathers could cross behind him.  Feathers, dark as pitch all along the leading edges, were stark and dramatic against his golden skin, lightening to sooty grey near the tips.  He was wearing nothing but a pair of brown, hemp pants that Sam had bought him at some hippy store he liked and a seriously ruffled hair-do.

He looked beautiful, Dean thought – as he often did.  He doubted he would ever get used to seeing Castiel's wings.

Behind him, Jessy and Cesar let out nearly simultaneous shaky breaths and Dean held up a hand.

Cas hadn't noticed them yet and he didn't want to startle him.

He followed the path down to the water, the sound of it drowning out his movements despite the fact that he was purposely trying to make noise.  He hated the look in Cas’ eyes when he was startled.  Hated it even more when he was the one who put it there.  But he got close enough to call Cas' name without having to yell over the sound of the waterfall and the angel still had his eyes closed, face and body so relaxed Dean might have thought he was sleeping if he wasn’t sitting up.

Before he could let Cas know he was there as gently as he could, the toe of his boot caught on a rock and it smacked against the one beside it with a thick _clack_ and Castiel's eyes snapped open at the same time his wings flared threateningly.

Dean's hands flew up, "It's just us, Cas," he said calmly, watching closely as Castiel's gaze locked on him, his wings still tense as he crouched halfway to standing. 

This is what Dean was always striving to avoid.  He hated the feeling these moments gave him.  Hated that Cas could go from completely at rest – which was a hard state for him to reach – to wild-eyed readiness to protect himself in less than a fraction of a second.  Even when he was as calm and relaxed as he could get, in the back of his mind, Cas was always expecting something to come along and shatter any serenity he found.  And Dean hated when he was the one to prove him right.

But he at least found solace in the fact that he was getting better at helping Cas shake that expectation faster and faster every time.  Already, his massive wings were folding back in a little, the wildness in his blue eyes calming into something less ferocious and more cautious and watchful.

Until he caught sight of Jessy, Cesar and Sam coming down the path and his blue eyes widened and his wings flared wide again – alarmed by the sight of the two strangers coming towards him.  Grace lit up his eyes, light replacing the deep blue in his irises – an instinctual reaction Dean knew he had no control over.  Just like a shot of adrenalin or a scream, his grace was reacting, warning him, getting Cas ready to fight or run.

Unperturbed by the aggressive display of Castiel's wings but feeling his gut twist at the growing panic etching itself into the tense set of Cas’ posture, Dean took slow and careful steps towards him, making sure his body language stayed loose and open while trying to ignore the sudden feeling that he’d somehow betrayed Cas by bringing two strangers here. 

"Hey, buddy, it's ok,” he said, gentle but firm.  “You’re ok.”

Cas' glowing eyes remained fixed on the newcomers, his wings still spread in a hostile warning sign to _back off_ , still half crouched like he was ready to bolt at any sudden movement.

"Cas...Cas, look at me," Dean softly ordered and when Cas' focus slid reluctantly over to him, Dean offered him a reassuring smile.  "They're friends, Cas.  Jessy and Cesar.  They won't hurt you."

_Trust me_ , he wanted to say.  But he wouldn’t, knew now that it wasn’t right to ask that of Cas after what he’d been through; after all the times he _had_ trusted because he had no other choice.

His wings were sagging hesitantly, gaze flicking from Dean, to Cesar and Jessy and then to Sam standing behind them.  The grace faded from his eyes and Castiel looked back to Dean, his expression wary but _trusting_ in a way that made Dean's heart pound and ache.  Because it was cautious trust; faith based on nothing more than a flimsy foundation of odds that they hadn't hurt him _yet_.

Dean knew that foundation had once been strong, years and years ago, back before they treated Cas like something that could not be mentally or emotionally wounded every time they turned their back on him for something they thought was more important.  Dean sometimes laid awake at night, wondering what had been the final blow, wondering what event had been the wrecking ball to that seemingly unbreakable faith Castiel had in them.

Because it had been shattered; had, at one point, crumbled to dust, and both Dean and Sam had spent the last few months building that trust up again.  It was hard, knowing it might never be as sturdy as it once was.  But they would try. 

Dean would try until he died, to show Cas how sorry he was, how needed he was.  How _loved_ he was.

And though the unease and the doubt became more and more distant in Castiel's eyes with each passing day, Dean could wait for as long as Cas needed to feel completely at ease around them again.

He eased himself slowly into a crouch a few feet away, so that he was eye level with Castiel.  "Cesar and Jessy helped us on a case a while ago, helped us save a ton of people.  They were passing through on their way to Alaska and wanted to stop by for a visit," Dean explained, giving Cas a bit of a platform on which to build his view of the two men.  "They're good people, Cas.  You don't have to be scared of them, you’re _safe_.  I promise.  And me and Sam and right here too."

Castiel stared at him a moment longer and then pulled his wings in, standing so he could fold them tightly along his back, which meant he was still nervous, but probably trying hard to give them the benefit of the doubt.  Dean stood again, breathing out through his nose slowly, feeling relieved, like he’d managed to derail a major setback.

Cas was watching Jessy and Cesar as they came forward, Sam close beside them as if to say, _see, I trust them_ _too_.

The three of them looked wary of each other, the two men watching Cas just as carefully as Cas was watching them and Dean was suddenly struck by how unreal the situation felt.

Or, more accurately, he was struck by how unreal his life was sometimes.  His best friend was an angel who liked to sleep in the woods and meditate by waterfalls and scolded Dean for stepping on baby plants.  His best friend had wings and grace and wasn’t human and had the power to level entire cities, but instead chose to spend his time hanging out with little woodland creatures and plants.  Cas was a hurricane in a glass bottle and Dean wanted to wrap him in a blanket and protect him; wanted to shelter _Cas_ from the world.

The near constant ache in Dean’s chest pulsed and he resisted the urge to reach out and touch Cas, because it would only be to comfort himself.  He could tell just from the set of Cas’ wings and the coil of his muscles that touching would not be welcome in that moment.

Through the sound of the waterfall, birdsong trickled through and the gurgle of the stream draining away from the pool was calming enough for Dean to latch on to.

“Cas, this is Cesar and Jessy,” Sam introduced them, “Guys, this is Castiel.”

“Hello,” Cas greeted, not unkindly.  His wings were still tense and folded tight against his back but some of the sharp lines of muscle under his skin smoothed as he relaxed.

Cesar seemed to be warming up pretty quickly, his eyes flicking over Cas’ wings only briefly before his shoulders lowered and he offered the angel a disarming smile.  “Good to finally meet you, Castiel.”

Beside him, Jessy was still a little stiff.

“How do you know Sam and Dean?”  The rumble in Cas’ voice momentarily drowned out the sound of the waterfall.

_Ok,_ Dean thought _, not as ok as I thought_.

It was unnerving, when Castiel was so on edge that he let his real voice slip through unchecked.  He spoke in the air around you more than from his lips and Jessy and Cesar tensed back up immediately. 

In the trees around them, the birds went quiet, as if the unease in the angelic voice made them wary too.

“Cas,” Sam said gently, coming to stand beside him.  “Jessy and Cesar are good people, ok?  You don’t have to be afraid of them.”

Castiel looked up at Sam and whatever he saw in the younger brother’s face changed his entire demeanor.  The tight set of his wings relaxed, his shoulders rolled back and down in a deliberate movement and he took a deep breath before looking back at Jessy and Cesar, shifting a few inches closer to Sam.

“Sorry.”

Dean frowned, not at all ok with the fact that Cas was obviously trying to hide his unease, leaning in to Sam because he couldn’t quite smother the anxiety of two new hunters being close by.  He wondered if maybe he should take them back to the bunker, that niggling sense that he’d betrayed something just by bringing them here coming back full force. 

He opened his mouth to suggest heading back, but caught Sam’s eye at the last second, biting the words back when Sam shook his head minutely.

_Give him a minute_.  Sam had said that on more than one occasion.

_“Let him feel it out, Dean.  Give him a minute to realize he’s ok.  If you keep taking the threat away he’ll never get the chance to realize it_ isn’t _a threat.”_

Sam’s hand automatically came up to rest against one of Cas’ wings and Cas relaxed further.

Dean knew his brother was right but it was hard when Cas was so obviously afraid not to immediately do everything he could to remove the thing that was scaring him.  He also knew if he kept doing that then, like Sam had said, Cas would never get the chance to see there was nothing to be afraid _of_ and he would never be able to feel safe.  It was the best way they could help him – unless things got way out of hand like they often did a few months ago.

But it didn’t seem like enough when Castiel was looking at them through wide eyes, with trembling wings and tense muscles, looking every time like he was debating whether to trust them or run.

Dean had to remind himself how far Cas had come – how much progress they had made – because at first, Cas had opted to run more times than he’d chosen to trust their word that he didn’t need to.  Now, at least, he might take a few moments to decide, but he always chose to trust them.

_Baby steps_ , Dean reminded himself firmly.

As soon as the birds started chirping again, the atmosphere lightened a little and Dean rocked on his feet, trying to think of something too say to break the slightly awkward silence.  But it was Cas, oblivious to social etiquette as usual, who turned – though not enough to dislodge Sam’s comforting touch, Dean noted with a small smile – to face the pool of water.

“We got the flowers,” Sam told him and Cas mumbled something back that Dean couldn’t hear but had Sam grinning and huffing a laugh.

Dean slid the backpack off and set it on the ground, moving over to stand beside Jessy and Cesar who were, despite Dean’s earlier warning, staring openly as Castiel’s wings.

To be fair, both he and Sam had moved to the edge of the water and had their backs turned, so Cas couldn’t see them staring. 

“Man, you weren’t kidding,” Jessy mumbled.  It was the first thing he said and it was accompanied by a slow exhale, as if he was consciously trying to let go of his prejudices surrounding non-humans.

“Not kidding about what?”  Dean had to work at keeping the snap from his voice because he liked the two men, but if they so much as hinted at not being able to accept the angel, he’d kick them out on their tails.

“About how skittish he is.”

Dean relaxed and glanced over to where Cas had stepped into the pool of water, soaking his pants up to the ankles, and turned back so he was facing Sam.  His blue eyes would occasionally flick past Sam’s broad shoulders, landing on Cesar and Jessy as if to check they were still where he’d last seen them.

“Yeah, he’s been through a lot.  I’m just glad he –” he cut himself off but then pushed forward, reminding himself, as he always had to, that they had all agreed to try this talking and communicating thing.  It was a hard habit to break.  “I’m just glad he made it through, you know?”

He took a deep breath and tore his eyes from where Castiel was smiling one of his little smiles at whatever Sam was saying, and looked back at Jessy and Cesar. 

“I _do_ know,” said Cesar, reaching over to lace his fingers through Jessy’s.

Dean nodded gravely, then turned to look Jessy in the eye and pointedly asked. “You good?”

Jessy held his gaze and nodded and his eyes slipped over to Cas.  It was only then that Dean realized it wasn’t unease he was seeing in the lines of Jessy’s face, it was sympathy.

He wondered if Cas’ unease about _their_ presence hadn’t helped bring them around and wasn’t sure how he felt about either answer.

 

* * *

 

 

Small talk eventually turned to talk of food and soon Dean was leading Jessy and Cesar over to the water where Sam was still standing at the edge, watching Castiel, who had wandered deeper in to where the water reached his thighs and over to the wall of rock opposite the trail, carefully picking a few little flowers growing out of the moss.

“Cas,” Dean called, “You hungry?  We have snacks.”

Castiel glanced over his shoulder with a deadpanned stare – _angels don’t snack, Dean_ – but then it smoothed when his eyes landed on the backpack. 

“What kind of snacks?”

Sam threw his head back and laughed and Dean had to try hard to quell a grin. 

“I have coconut.”

Castiel’s arm dropped from where he’d been reaching for the flowers and he waded back towards them – wings arced high to keep his flight feathers out of the water – with a few clutched in his fist, which he handed off to Sam.  The stems and leaves were green and had little white flowers at the top.

“Mountain mint,” Castiel told Sam, “For when you can’t sleep.”

Sam nodded, his eyes suddenly misty – like they always were whenever Cas did something thoughtful for him like that – and Dean felt warmth swell in his chest as the angel approached.  He made an obvious effort not to skirt around Jessy and Cesar and looked patiently at Dean as if awaiting the promised coconut.

They decided to sit on the large patch of soft moss – really, it was the only place to sit besides in the water or the clunky softball sized rocks – and shared the sandwiches, crackers and cheese they’d made up the night before.  The fresh coconut, which Dean had packed in a little Tupperware container specifically for Cas, was promptly commandeered by the angel, who then wandered away back over to the water, quite obviously not ready to sit down and share a meal with Jessy and Cesar.

They didn’t seem bothered by it and the four of them ate in comfortable silence, listening to the birds and the water and the occasional whisper of wind high up in the trees.  But mostly, they watched Cas.

He waded up to his waist, his wings still carefully arced up away from the water, and he was staring contemplatively at a spot just to the right of the waterfall, where there were a clusters of bright yellow flowers growing out of a few little ledges where water likely continuously gathered.

Cas was only halfway into the pool, chewing absently on a stick of fresh coconut with a frown, likely realizing that he’d have to get his wings wet if he wanted those flowers.

The chatter of a territorial squirrel suddenly shattered the serenity of the woodland sounds and the four of them laughed when Castiel turned to scowl into a patch of trees where the unseen squirrel was likely hiding.  After a moment of what was probably an intense staring match, the tiny little tree rodent suddenly darted out onto a branch hanging over the waterfall, it’s tail twitching spastically.

Castiel’s expression cleared now that the thing was no longer screaming and he watched it now, instead of the flowers, letting his free hand dip into the water at his side, absently wiggling his fingers.

He at least looked more at ease now, Dean was relieved to note.  Enough to turn his back on Jessy and Cesar at least, though he hoped that was more because Cas trusted them – him – enough to raise the alarm if something were to happen.

The squirrel jumped from its branch onto a sapling growing out of the rocky wall, scurried down the mossy rocks and scrabbled onto an even smaller sapling, which bowed under the weight of the tiny critter when it strained out on to it’s only branch, little nose and tail twitching.

Dean was sure if squirrels could drool it would be, and Castiel looked down at the coconut in his hand, then back up at the squirrel with a small smile.  He took a stick and bit it in half, holding out what was left.

But the eager squirrel got too excited, moved forward on the weak branch an inch too far, and was suddenly plummeting towards the water.

Cas’ hand darted out like a shot, catching the flailing thing before it hit the water, and then plunking it right down on his shoulder with a stick of coconut held out as a calmative peace offering. 

Which the squirrel accepted like it didn’t care it had nearly just died, holding it between adorable tiny paws and sitting still and calm on the angel’s shoulder while it mowed through the sweet stick.

Dean groaned and flung himself back on the moss, feeling something mushy and gooey fill his chest the longer he looked at Cas. 

Cas, who had just saved a tiny animal from drowning.  Cas, with his stupid beautiful wings and his soft smiles.  Cas, who picked medicinal wild flowers for his brother to make tea with. _Cas_ , who was feeding coconut sticks to the _small woodland creature sitting on his god damn shoulder_.

“You alright there, buddy?” Jessy smirked down at him. 

“Shut up,” Dean grumbled back.

He was fucking perfect, thank you very much.  He couldn’t remember ever being so fucking happy for so many consecutive days. 

Cas made him happy just by _existing_.  When Cas smiled, Dean smiled.  He made Dean worry about not stepping on small plants.  He made Dean want to read books about plants so he could know more about Cas’ interests.  He made Dean have to fight hard when Cas wanted ridiculous stuff – like two weeks ago when Cas had showed up at the bunker door with a baby rabbit with a bloody ear in his hands and big blue puppy eyes already firmly in place. 

Every day Dean thought about telling Cas all the ways he made him happy and every day he convinced himself that now was not the time.  It never was.  But especially not now.  Cas was still in a delicate frame of mind and Dean worried – obsessively – if telling the angel how he _felt_ might be some kind emotional upheaval that would set Cas back. 

He was getting better, and his progress was mostly steady, but Dean sometimes wondered if this wasn’t it for them as far as hunting went.  He never wanted Cas to have to fight another dark force and would never leave him behind in the bunker to go do it himself.

And anyway, lately Dean’s thoughts had drifted more towards the kind of things Bobby used to do, with his vast library and many phones.

In the loop enough to help but nowhere near any of the danger.

Dean stared up at the canopy of trees, hearing Cas wading back out of the water amidst the soft chatter of Cesar and Jessy telling Sam about their plans for Alaska.  Under his back, the moss was thick and soft enough that he could have fallen asleep and he had to wrench his eyes back open more than once.  No wonder Castiel liked to spend the night out here.  It was almost better than his memory foam mattress.  And the smell of the earth and trees was way better than the musty air in the bunker.

When Dean sat up, Cas was just sitting down between him and Sam, wet pants still dripping, and the stupid adorable tree rat was still sitting calmly on his shoulder like it had no intention of moving unless made to do so.  It had finished the coconut – as had Cas, Dean observed with a twinge of satisfaction – and was now inching along Cas’ shoulder, its little nose twitching over his sleek feathers.

“Coconut good?”  Dean asked blandly, just to say something to stop his mushy thoughts.  He wouldn’t be surprised if the birdsong he was hearing was actually from the ones flying around his head.

Castiel hummed, turning his head to look at the squirrel when it stretched to brace its tiny front paws on his wing where it drooped around his shoulder.

Sam was shaking his head, watching the angel and squirrel with a grin.  “Ridiculous.”

“ _Right_?!”  Dean exploded.

Jessy and Cesar threw their heads back and laughed and Sam had to cover his mouth to keep from spitting his sandwhich out.  Cas jumped at the sudden explosion of laughter but then he smiled tentatively, the same smile he always had when he didn’t know why people were laughing but happy they were all the same.

“You gonna name him?”  Cesar asked once he’d finished giggling.

Dean grumbled, thinking they probably wouldn’t have laughed if they knew how much deeper his feelings for Cas went than simply being affected because the angel was being fucking adorable without even realizing it.

“She has a name already,” Castiel told them softly, lifting his wing and stretching it out to the side when the squirrel hopped from his shoulder and scrabbled up the silky feathers. It sat just beside the big joint and Castiel stretched his wing out farther, parallel to the ground so the squirrel didn’t slip.

“What is it?”  Cesar asked with a half frown, half smile that was mirrored on Jessy’s face.

“I cannot reproduce it with these human vocal chords.” The ‘ _obviously’_ at the end of Cas’ answer was heavily implied.

Jessy and Cesar looked at the brothers, who shrugged as if to say, _yeah, pretty much_.

The squirrel bounded happily along the nine feet of Castiel's wing but when it neared the end of the flight feathers, the angel twitched violently and rolled onto his hip as if to get away from something, grimacing.

Dean's hand snapped out to steady Cas' wing, which he was holding still for the squirrel as best he could, and Sam shifted closer, his large hand on Cas' shoulder.  Under Dean’s hand, the powerful muscle trembled.

"What's wrong?” he asked urgently, heart already pounding.

"It tickles." 

Castiel's voice wobbled with supressed laughter and his lips pressed in a thin line as he tracked the squirrel's progress over his wing.

The squirrel abruptly bounded back up his wing, little fluffy tail straight up in the air as if it was having the time of it's life, and Castiel made a strangled noise in the back of his throat, reaching up to snatch the little critter off his wing.

His face relaxed instantly and he cupped the squirrel in his hands, now practically cooing at it while it's little nose twitched and sniffed up at him.

Heart thudding in his chest, Dean pushed a sharp sigh through his nose and watched Castiel duck his head down to touch his nose to the squirrel’s with a little smile on his full lips.

"This is it, this is how I'm gonna die," Dean muttered, scrubbing at his face.

Sam had both hands over his mouth to keep his laughter in so Dean pulled his shoe off and threw it at him.  Then took the other off.  He stood and pulled his shirt over his head while everyone but Cas – who, bless his soul, was looking around at them all like they were crazy – snickered at him, growling about going to soak in the water.

He stepped into the cool water, nearly biting his tongue in half to stop the squeal of shock.  It was fucking _cold_.  Which he had expected and hoped would help numb his warm, glowy thoughts about Cas, because it was starting to get a little unbearable, holding them all in when he’d been trying so hard to do the opposite with all his other feelings.

Why did Cas have to be so...so... _Cas_?  Why couldn't he be an asshole?  Though that didn't really work because Cas was frequently a grouchy asshole and Dean found it absolutely endearing.  The way he would scowl at the coffee maker when it refused to give him coffee faster; the way he would up and leave the room when tv characters made stupid decisions.  The way he would positively glower at Dean whenever the hunter made him get out of bed before he wanted to. 

Dean found it all just as adorable as when Cas was using his grace to urge along little plants or when he was letting stupid little animals sit on his shoulder.

He waded further into the water once he’d acclimated to the temperature, feeling it seep up into the fabric of his pants – which he'd left on for everyone’s benefit.  They were light, kaki hiking pants he’d worn purposely for their quick drying quality.  When he was in up to his waist he dove forward, surfacing again right at the base of the waterfall and shaking the water out of his hair and eyes.

He looked up, to where the flowers Cas had been looking at were, wondering what they were called and why he wanted them.

When he turned back around, able to just touch the sandy bottom with his feet, Castiel was coming towards him, already in up to his knees with his wings arced high over the water.

Dean grinned, "You're gonna get your feathers wet, angel," he yelled over the waterfall behind him.

Castiel merely smiled back until he was up to his ribs in the water, and then sunk down, pushing his wings under all at once.  His eyes slid closed and he sighed, looking as if the cool water was soothing a hurt Dean could not see.

"Your wings still sore?"  he asked, moving closer.

Cas had sunk low enough under that his mouth and nose were submerged, the arches of his wings poking out behind him.  But at Dean’s question, he rose enough so that he could speak.

"Not much anymore, but I like the way the water feels.  Even if they will take time to dry."

As if to accentuate his point, Castiel wings rose out of the water a few feet and he ruffled them violently.

Water sprayed ten feet in a thousand directions, catching the sunlight filtering through the trees and making tiny rainbows.

Dean yelled and made a show of turning his head away from the spray, but the grin on his face likely betrayed him.  But how could he not smile?  Cas was smiling and his wings were all fluffy and he was making god damn rainbows.

When Castiel suddenly laughed – _laughed_ – Dean turned back to stare at him, taking in how he was grinning wide enough to show his teeth, eyes crinkling at the corners and shoulders rolling as he chuckled.

_Beautiful_.

"Oh, you think that's funny?"  Dean had been going for playful, but it came out strained and breathy.

When Cas nodded, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes dancing, Dean advanced on him. 

Cas took a step back, his smile morphing into a mischievous grin, and his massive wings rose menacingly out of the water, rivulets cascading off the back like a second waterfall and Dean realized what it was the angel intended to do a split second before the wings arced high over Cas' head.

 "Oh,  _hell_ no!"

He rushed forward, wrapping his arms clear around Cas' waist and pushing him back into the water.

The pool wasn't nearly deep enough for them to go under, and they hit the sandy bottom, cushioning their fall.  Cas gave a squeak of surprise when his ass hit the sand and Dean threw his arms out, bracing himself to keep from falling right on top of the angel.

Cas' wings were half spread, flexed back to prop himself up against the bottom of the pond, and he blinked wide eyes up at Dean, his lips parted with water running down his face.

Dean became aware of the fact that, under the water, he was nestled snugly between Cas' thighs and his arms were pressed against Cas' bare shoulders.  Beneath his hands, he could feel soft feathers and sand between his fingers and as he stared down into the angel's deep blue eyes, a drop of water fell from the tip of his nose and landed on Cas’ collar bone.

"Dean," Castiel breathed, tongue darting out to lick the water off his full lips, "You're pulling my feathers."

Cas’ thighs shifted against Dean's and Dean swallowed thickly.

"Sorry."

He pushed himself back on to his knees, gently extracting his fingers from Cas' feathers.

And looked up to see Sam, Cesar and Jessy all staring at him with shit eating grins.  Sam even had his chin resting in his hands.

He cursed and scrabbled backwards on instinct alone, losing his footing in the loose sand and tumbling back into the water, arms wind-milling.

When he finally got his feet under him and got his head above the water it was to see Cas sitting with his forearms resting on his knees, wings loose and relaxed, with a grin still stretching his full lips.  Watching him.

There were two ways Dean knew he could handle the situation.  One, he cursed and swore and stomped out of the pool, pretending to be pissed.  Or, he wiped the smirk off his brothers’ face, stopped making excuses and did something he should have done ages ago.

He shook the water from his hair – again – and returned Castiel’s grin with one of his own.

“You laughing at me?”

Cas’ smile widened, his eyes dancing.  “Yes.  You are ridiculous.”

Dean shifted closer again, crouched down so that his shoulders were hidden under the water, and watched closely for any signs of Castiel’s comfort level starting to slip.

“ _You’re_ ridiculous,” Dean countered.  “Your blue eyes are ridiculous and your perma bed-head is ridiculous.  Your wings are ridiculously _beautiful_.”

Castiel blinked and his grin slackened, his cheeks flushing pink and all the little feathers – the ones that dry in seconds – lifted, making his wings look fluffy.

“Your heart – ridiculously beautiful,” Dean continued, inching closer still.  “Your weird sense of humor – ridiculously beautiful.”  Dean let his hand settle on the side of Castiel’s calf, fingers curling gently around the muscle.  “The way you scowl at me when I make you get up early – ridiculously beautiful.”

Castiel swallowed, his eyes wide as dinner plates and his cheeks red.  All around them the sound of the waterfall and the birds in the trees was distant.

“Everything about who you are,” Dean’s smile softened, and then fell away and he looked down, lifted his other hand to settle on Castiel’s arm where it rested on his knees.  “Is ridiculously beautiful.  And I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve told you.”

He looked up, but Cas was watching Dean’s hand with a small frown and Dean prepared to pull back, something cold spreading through him.  He had been right, it was too soon, Cas was too…

Cas turned his hand over and curled his fingers around Dean’s wrist, looking back up at him with such an open and raw expression that Dean almost started weeping – with relief, with the urge to gather Cas up in his arms and protect him, with the gut wrenching softness filling him up from his toes to his head.

“Dean,” Cas nearly whispered, but Dean could hear it even over the noise of the waterfall.  Could hear the way his voice trembled.

He moved closer, his grip tightening unconsciously.  Castiel’s fingers curled tighter in response.

“Cas…can I kiss you?”

Because that was something he should ask for.  Because he would not push for anything Cas did not want to give him, but wanted to be clear about how he felt.  Because communication, he’d learned, was important, and never more so than it was in that moment.

Castiel’s wings shifted and seemed to grow to twice their size and the blush spread from Cas’ cheeks to cover most of his face.

Dean couldn’t help the smile spreading back over his own face when Cas’ tongue darted out to unconsciously wet his lips.

Tugging on his arm, Cas pulled him closer, right back between his thighs, and Dean released a breathy chuckle, feeling drunk.

The water shifted around them as they moved and Dean leaned down.

Castiel’s tasted like rain water and clean air and Dean slid his arm around his waist, under his wings, and pressed closer, feeling Cas’ lips moving tentatively, softly, against his.  He was sure he could _feel_ his heart swelling in his chest and he smiled gently against Cas’ lips, open around little panting breaths.

“You ok?” Dean whispered.

Castiel’s hand came up to rest against the side of his face and he nodded, already leaning up to kiss him again with a bit more certainty.

When they finally pulled apart they were both breathing hard, the blush had receded from Castiel’s face and wolf whistles and cat calls from the edge of the water had Dean groaning and dropping his head to rest on Cas’ shoulder.

He had forgotten that they were there, his entire world had collapsed down to Castiel and his lips, his breath, his skin.  But he didn’t care that they had an audience.  Didn’t care now they _knew_.  Because _Cas_ knew, and that was all that mattered.

One of Castiel’s wings came around him, damp feathers feeling like a silk sheet against his back, and the angel shifted ever so slightly.

“You should know that your brother looks mildly disturbed,” Castiel rumbled calmly into his hair.

Dean pressed a kiss to Cas’ shoulder, then to the side of his neck, smiling when it earned him a huff of laughter.  He pressed a kiss to Cas’ jaw, then to his cheek and then to his smiling lips.

He glanced through the space between Cas’ neck and wing and smirked at Sam, who was gaping like a fish.

“You’re gonna catch flies, Sammy!” he yelled.  Then the looked down at Cas again.  “You know any flowers that’ll help with that?”

Castiel leaned his head back and laughed.  A real laugh that started deep in his belly and shook his shoulders and Dean was enthralled.  When Cas looked back at him, he was smiling so wide that Dean could hardly see his eyes and there was a little scrunch on the bridge of his nose and Dean knew right then and there that he was well and truly done for.

“I love you, Cas,” he said plainly.  Because he needed to.  Because he wanted to _make sure_ that Cas knew it.  “I have…for ages and, uh…thought it was probably time to let you know.  You don’t have to say it back,” he rushed to reassure, “I mean I know you might not…be…in the same place I –”

“Dean,” Castiel firmly interrupted him. 

He looked up to find Cas giving him a deadpanned stare, one dark brow cocked.

Dean was surprised by how much he wanted to see _that_ again.

“I’ve loved you for a very long time,” Cas told him bluntly.  But then his eyes dropped, his confidence suddenly slipping away.  “I’m sorry I’ve been…that I can’t seem to get better all the way.”

Cas might have kept going, if Dean hadn’t started to frantically shake his head and crowd closer, reaching up to cup Cas’ face in his hands.

“Cas – Cas, god… _no_.”  he tilted Castiel’s chin up, waited till he looked Dean in the eye.  “Cas, there is _nothing_ wrong with you.  You are perfect just the way you are.” He took Cas’ hands in his and kissed them, “You are strong and kind and amazing and brilliant and I don’t want you to doubt that _ever_.”

Castiel looked like he very much _did_ doubt it and Dean’s heart throbbed painfully in his chest.  But Cas at least knew that Dean loved him wholeheartedly. 

Didn’t he?

He thought of all those times, after Cas had first woken up, that he had tried to tell Cas just what he meant to them.  _Tried_ being the key word.  Sam had tried too and mostly they’d just gotten a confused head tilt in response.  Then suspicion after that, like he thought they were trying to manipulating him in to something by pretending to care about him – that had hurt like a bitch.  Then outright avoidance had followed, wherein Cas had seemed both puzzled and irritated by their suddenly nice behaviour towards him and had refused to answer any question they asked him at all for two weeks.  Which had also hurt like a bitch. 

But then finally Cas seemed to start believing them when they said they cared or asked him how he was feeling.  But was a love confession too much for him to believe right now?  Had they really gotten through to him that deeply yet?

He stared into Castiel’s eyes, trying to communicate things he couldn’t say with words.  He let his thumb brush a drop of water off Cas’ cheekbone and tried to read everything he could see on the angel’s face.

“You believe me, right?” he asked, sounding desperate even to himself.

But this – _this_ he needed Cas to understand _now_.

“Cas, please, tell me you understand _how much_ I love you.  Please, tell me you understand how kind and beautiful your heart is.  Tell me you understand that you’re _good_ and _whole_ just as you are.”

He could have kept going, had at least a hundred more words to describe how great Cas was, but the angel was starting to look overwhelmed, like he couldn’t even process such blatant praise being directed at him, and Dean had to tell himself to calm the hell down.

‘ _I have time,_ ’ Dean told himself, ‘ _Even if he doesn’t know it now, there’s no rush.  I have time._ We _have time.  Finally._ ’

“Dean…”  Castiel trailed off, blinked and tried again.  “Dean…”

Definitely overwhelmed.  Dean shook his head gently, leaning in to press another kiss to Cas’ lips and when he felt Cas melt in to him, he could breathe again.  When he pulled away, Castiel stared up at him like he could see the stars in his eyes and Dean felt heat spread through his face and a warm curl of something wonderful pulse low in his belly.

“You, uh, want some more coconut?  I brought another stash just in case.”

Castiel’s shy smile returned.  “Ok.”

“Ok.”  He lingered in Cas’ space a little longer to press a final kiss to his lips – because wow were Castiel’s lips addictive – and then stood, holding out his hand.

Water cascaded from Castiel’s wings when he stood and then he spread them ominously with a dark grin thrown over his shoulder to where Sam, Jessy and Cesar still sat, staring shamelessly.

Their eyes widened in realization and they scrambled, but they couldn’t move fast enough and Castiel started to beat his wings, spraying water in every direction like a downpour, and the three grown men shrieked, stumbling through the knee high ferns to get away.

Dean might have laughed at them even harder than he already was – if he didn’t know the sight of an angel calmly walking towards you with a diabolical grin and an eighteen-foot wingspan was actually terrifying.

Once Cas was satisfied that he’d syphoned most of the water from his feathers, he shot Dean a smug look, his wings half folded at his sides, like he couldn’t stand the feeling of his damp feathers touching each other.  And Dean knew that he couldn’t.

“That,” Dean said, stepping close, “Was awesome.”

Castiel smiled and then tipped his chin up, asking very seriously.  “Where’s my coconut?”

“In my bag, but you might want to get to it before your little friend does.”

Castiel turned sharply, spotting the squirrel were it sat on top of Dean’s bag just in time to see her shake herself so fast she seemed to vibrate into a blur, the water from Castiel’s wings now scattering off the little body in an explosive spray. The little critter ducked into the opening of Dean backpack, tail straight up in the air.

She emerged with the baggie of coconut and then spotted the six-foot-tall and eighteen-foot-wide angel stomping towards her and froze in abject terror, tail twitching once.

Because, as Dean knew – terrifying.

Castiel calmly bent and took the baggie from her tiny paws and then scooped her up as well, placing her on his shoulder and immediately handing over a chunk of coconut with a stern expression.

As Sam, Jessy and Cesar crept cautiously closer, Castiel turned back to Dean with an even more stern expression. 

“We’re keeping her.”

The image of an injured bunny, an abandoned fawn and a geriatric raccoon flashed behind Dean’s eyes and he grinned.  Because getting a taste of how it felt to make Castiel smile and laugh – of how it felt to be the one making the angel happy – would pretty much ensure that Dean did whatever Cas wanted for the rest of forever.

He nodded and followed Cas out of the water, stopping in front of him and staring down at the little squirrel.  She _was_ pretty cute, he supposed. 

“Sure thing, angel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit this took forever to edit. Um so it's 9AM and I haven't been to bed yet so sorry for the spelling/grammar errors. Please leave a review if you liked it I think my eyes are bleeding.


End file.
